Airazor and the Wall
by feeltheRUSH
Summary: Swept onstage, who will Airazor find behind The Wall? Short 'n' sweet lil oneshot.


_Rewriting my first fic. -shakes head- I had no idea I was so… bland! This was even more fun to re-write! Again, my thanks go out to Blaze Raptor, for her supreme powers of editing, and Hasbro, who have no idea that I'm putting their characters on reality TV. Tune at five. :D

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Airazor and the Wall

It's never a nice experience to be shoved around, but I suppose it's better than getting your spark extracted by an alien species. Still, I was wary. All around me, mechs with detachable headsets were screeching at their assistants, who cowered away, but taking whatever bitter remark came their way with a docile nod.

And I thought battle fields were intense.

The pushy femme, sporting a nametag reading 'Frostbite', steered me by my arm, her grip like steel. Bewildered I watched bots scurry around, all clutching data pads and yelling so vehemently that their voiceboxes skipped.

"We're on in _**five**_, people!"

We passed a golden door inlaid with fake ruby stars scattered across it. 'Digit Intristar' was engraved in curly letters on the topmost star. A loud voice was heard behind it, screamng, "I'm watching myself right now, and I look disgusting!… You moron, I told him black with goldrod highlights, and he gives me…_not_ gold! ... Well, those miserable humans better import faster then!… Either find me a decent second assistant of find yourself a new job…" His voice faded as we rounded a corner, coming to a door labeled 'Stage Entrance'.

Frostbite jerked my arm to get my attention, "This is where we split, hon." I didn't like the way she talked down on me, but remained politely silent. "You go on, wave, look happy, all that jazz. You'll see a chair. That's were you go. Sit, stay, and don't look over the wall. Remember, _The Wall _is viewed live and international, so try not to do anything incredibly stupid." Her silver lip plates pursed at the thought. "And, hon, please, whatever you do, don't upset Digit." With that, she crossed her arms, her high heeled feet tapping impatiently. "Well…?"

I tilted my head, puzzled, repeating, "Well what?"

"Get moving!" she hissed, punching the door control so it slid open and tried to push me through.

"But wait! What is the point of this? Who's Digit? You haven't told me-" I began, resisting her attempt to shove me through.

"Oh, puh-lease," Frostbite snapped, rolling dark optics at me. "Don't you watch television? Just get out there! The sooner this is over, the sooner I can go home."

Now, I wasn't one to anger easily, but this femme was 'shortin' my circuits' as Rattrap would say. At the thought of the little guy, I got a sharp pang in my spark. I missed him… and Tigatron. But I missed a lot of things: Earth, the wind beneath my wings, and the company of the Axalon crew, who had become my family since I emerged from my pod. But feeling sorry for myself never made me feel any better. I trained myself not to dwell on my past too often.

Pulling away from her, I stumbled out on stage. My optics widened as I caught sight of a huge studio audience. As one they swerved their multi-colored helms, focusing all their attention at me. I gulped self-consciously, tiptoeing toward the lone chair. At least Frostbite hadn't been screwing with me. The crowd began a raucous cheer, screeching my name at random. A Beast Warrior on a top-rated show was definitely a hit. We were the saviors of time and space after all.

I sat nervously on the chair, which actually was just a simple metal stool, taking in this new environment. The bulk of the audience was seated straight in front of me, where they could observe me easily. My head turned slowly, scanning them to try and find some familiar face, but found none. There was a gigantically tall wall directly to my left, blocking off my view to the other section of the stage. It was pretty uninteresting except that it was covered in a myriad of screens, all flashing different colors like a chameleon hopped up on caffeine.

A blast of corny game-show music blared from unseen speakers. I jumped, suppressing a shudder. I hated loud music, preferring the natural sounds of the open country, but I shelved my distaste as I watched the same stage door I entered opened again, bright spotlights illuminated a well-cut silhouette. However, I thought accompany the mist and strobe lights were overdoing.

"Laaaaadies and Gentlebots!" an attractive voice greeted from the speakers. The crowd went nuts, screaming and waving at the figure. "Welcome to another exciting episode of _The Wall_!" The figure stepped forward dramatically, with arms raised like he was an orchestra and not a game show host, revealing a flashy mech with modifications to his armor so it looked more like a tuxedo. He sauntered forward, a large, cheesy grin plastered on his handsome faceplate. His hand raised in hello to the crowd, many of whom were whooping, trilling their voiceboxes, trying desperately to catch his optic.

As he stopped next to me, I could see a small microphone attached underneath his chin, transmitting his voice to the speakers, no doubt. His smile grew as his optics raked up and down my frame, making me shiver slightly in my shell. "Welcome, Airazor!" he said grandly, "Welcome to _the Wall_. It's always a pleasure to meet a beautiful femme." His hand raised mine to his lips and he kissed it. I could feel his glossa at work on the back of my hand.

I yanked my arm away, saying with slightly sarcastic edge, "The pleasure is all yours." Fortunately for me, my own attachable microphone was off, but it switched on immediately afterward as I continued, "I'm really excited to be here." Frostbite had told me to act like life was good, so I complied.

The monitors on the wall began flashing, like they were excited too, and then the phrase 'The Wall' began scrolling across its many screens.

"Now, I'm sure you all know our rules," Digit's voice boomed around the stage, "but for those at home who are just joining us, we'll have a quick recap. Airazor has the once in a lifetime chance to win a large supply of energon cubes that she can enjoy on a trip to our sister planet: Earth (fully insured against Vok forces)! All expenses paid and she gets to bring along our specially chosen 'mystery bots'. To win, Airazor must successfully name all seven of our mystery bots in order. Voice scramblers are used to make the game a little bit harder. She has five questions to help her guess the identity of the bots. If she wins, she's off to Earth. If she looses… she'll need a good long bath." Digit's eyes raised to the ceiling.

Alarmed, I followed with my own optics. A large pustule filled with a slimy liquid was attached to the ceiling. It looked about ready to burst and dowse me with its slime. No doubt it would douse me, then gum up my internals. I pulled a face, the camera loving it.

"Let's bring in our mystery bots!" Digit announced, leaving me alone to go onto the other side of the wall. My side of the wall stopped spelling out 'The Wall', replacing the phrase with seven heads with sharp red question marks covering their faces. I'm guessing those were my mystery bots.

"Now, all of you know," Digit's was clearly projected as he spoke to the mystery bots, "you can't lie, but you can answer in anyway you see fit."

There were general noises of agreement from the mystery bots, all distorted in pitch by the voice scramblers they were wearing.

Magically, Digit was back at my side, smiling hugeishly at me, "Airazor… the floor is yours."

Amazing the audience had been silent since Digit began speaking, but now, their voice roared together in one confusing mass. They were trying to help me, but they just confused me as I caught snatches of their proposed questions. But once I focused, I could separate one or two question from the horde's yelling.

"Ask about their colors!"

"Their past! Ask 'em 'bout their past!"

"Do they got hot femmes? 'Cause I'm free tonight!"

"Have they ever fought in a war?" That was half-way decent. Maybe there were downgraded Autobots among my mystery bots.

As I opened my mouth, the crowd hushed, waiting for my question. I was forming a very poor opinion of them. Why on Cybertron would they be _this_ into a TV show?

"Have any of you- er, well, you behind the wall," I said clearly, my voice magnified by the speakers, "been in a war?"

Silence.

As the first voice replied, the first image of a question-marked head lit up, outlined with yellow to indicate that bot was talking. "Yezz, Wazz- I," the voice sounded like it had been forced through a blender it was so distorted, "hazzz."

I noted that the first mystery bot had a hard time with saying 'I'. But that was a minor thing. His mispronounced 's's were like a huge neon sign. I smiled inwardly, I already knew one of the identies of the mystery bots.

The outline around the first head disappeared and framed the second head instead, telling me the second mystery bot was speaking.

"Unfortunately, yes, I have," the second voice sounded sad, even if it was garbled.

"No," the third head illuminated as the speaker chuckled sneakily to himself.

Digit, who had been standing with a faux thoughtful expression on his face, moved to peek at the third bot, a frown painting his chiseled face. "You aren't allowed to lie," he reminded.

"Fine," the third voice huffed. "I have."

The fourth voice answered next, "Yeah." And he seemed clever enough to answer in one word sentences.

"I fought in a war, I was not just in it," the fifth speaker said, sounding affronted despite the mixed quality his voice now had. Aside from the first mystery bot, I had no idea who the rest of them were.

"I did not just fight in a war," the sixth speaker seemed to be sneering at the fifth, "I dominated it! And I would have won if it wasn't for you pesky Maximals!" A tide of boo's hailed the sixth speaker's statement, and the image of the third head lit up as he chuckled, while the second and sixth speakers both joined in the scolding.

Digit held up his hands in a calming motion, saying loudly, "People, people, please. All the mystery bots are entitled to their own opinion, just like I'm entitled to tell Airazor she's a gorgeous piece of metal." His optic winked at me. Wolf whistles shrilled from the audience.

The sixth voice cleared his throat as soon as the clamor died down, and answered, "I too, served in a war."

Our lovely host took the reigns saying, "So we know that all seven of our mystery bots served in a war. Hmmm!" he stroked his chin, the crowd imitating him with looks of maddening superiority on their faces. "Lovely Lady Airazor, please, continue."

Sighing in my still organic lungs, I contemplated the fact that the main wars in Cybertron's history were the Great War and Beast Wars. I personally didn't count the whole Primus and Unicron conflic, that was before our time and those two were near god-status. Unlikely they would be sitting behind that wall.

The chaos in the crowd began again.

"What's their favorite ship model?"

"Hey! Hey! Ask if they've read the latest issue of _Femmes Gone Wild_?"

"Are they triple-changers?"

"I betcha one of 'em in Megalomanics Anonymous!

I shunted those into my growing list of questions I would never ask any-bot.

"What's their pet peeve?" That one was actually really good!

Like magic, the mass of bots silenced as I posed my question. "What is your number one pet peeve?"

"Getting zlaagged!" the fist speaker complained.

"Seeing beauty destroyed by the rages of war," the second voice answered promptly. Pretty and poetic, could it be…?

"Being interrupted in the middle of important research!" the third bot hrumphed, plainly remembering his pet peeve in clear detail.

"Dinosaurs," the fourth voice said pointedly, still using annoying _one_-word answers. Two growls, one from the fourth and fifth speaker- as shown by the wall- followed the fourth's comment. There was a scuffle, a muffled yelp from the fourth speaker.

Eager for some drama on international television, the crowd bellowed its approval, "Fight, fight, fight!"

Digit leapt to the other side of the wall. I could hear the sizzle of electricity and see the blue incandescent light. I guess Digit had a stun gun in his subspace pocket. He reappeared at my side, brushing up against me as he purred, "I took care of it, Lovely."

I shut off my microphone and said bluntly, "I'm Bonded."

"Like that could stop me," Digit mimicked me by shutting off his microphone.

I glared, but the fifth speaker's voice stopped me from retorting.

"Vermin."

"Why I oughtta-!" the fourth voice cried angrily. There was a thunk of metal on metal, and the crowd chanted, "_Fight, fight, fight!_"

"_Gentlebots_," Digit said exasperatedly, making his way around the wall again. There was another hum of electricity as Digit calmed the fight down. The crowd made disappointed noises as the host returned to his post next to me. I looked away, my mainframe focused on the identities of the mystery bots... _and_ a way to embarrass Digit on live TV.

"Hmm… being called certain nicknames, like 'My Q-'," the fifth voice broke off, probably not wanting to disclose his embarrassing nickname to the public. That didn't really help me. Rattrap had handed out nicknames right and left back in the Beast Wars, most of them unsavory, and he had gotten plenty in return.

"When my bots disobey direct orders!" the sixth speaker said, seemingly directing his comment at another of the mystery bots.

"Not my fault…" the fourth voice mumbled, while the fifth voice growled softly. The third voice chuckled, amused by their reactions.

Digit became animated again as he spoke loudly, "We're getting to know some of our mystery bots quite well," his gin slapped onto his face. "And now for the third question…"

I took stock of where I was at. I knew for sure that Waspinator was the first voice, the second sounded poetic and loved natural beauty, the third's chuckle was a nice clue, the fourth seemed cunning enough to not give me any useful information about himself- aside from the fact he hated dinosaurs-, the fifth was a mystery to me, the sixth seemed to _really _dislike Maximals, and the last one was definitely in command of other bots, and I doubted it could be Megatron, so…

My thought process was stopped as the crowd began to scream again. They all waved at me, trying to grab my attention so their question would be asked.

"Do they prefer their energon refined? Or do they like it impure?"

"Can any o' dem 'bots fly a First Class Wreaper?"

"Ever heard of Hydrualic Hydra? Best band out there!" Shameless self-promoters.

The audience seemed to be out of good ideas- and there were hardly any of them to begin with- so I retreated into my own thoughts, shutting off my audios for some much needed peace. I sighed in relief once I did. The high-charged crowd was starting to get to me.

I smiled as a question came to me, "So tell me about your favorite pastime, 'mystery bots'." I felt some pity for the Waspinator- who always spent his time in the CR Tank.

"Wa- I do not have pazztime," the bot confirmed.

"Nature walks with my lady," the second voice said, his voice dreamy. Aw, so romantic! It definitely wasn't Rattrap.

"Cackling," the third voice sniggered.

"Annoyin' pre-evolved bird-brains," the fourth voice sneered.

"Why you little scrapheap!" snarled the fifth voice, who- judging by his response- took the comment personally.

Digit was on it before I heard even the beginning of a scuffle. The hum of electricity seemed more intense before Digit returned, shaking his head. When he caught sight of me looking at him, he grinned, seemingly encouraged.

"I do not believe in past times," the fifth voice said breathlessly, still recovering from the electrical shock, "as they are a waste of time that would be better used for developing-"

"A brain?" the fourth speaker cut in, a sneer still in his voice. "Cause ya sure could use one."

"You go too far, Rodent!" the fifth voice roared. This time, there was a blast of a laser, a loud yell from the fourth, and a painful sounding thud.

"You overgrown iguana! What da slag did I do?" shouted the fourth voice.

"Do not feign innocence, Vermin!" hissed the fifth, "It does not become you… though nothing does."

"Look whose talkin'!"

With a tired sigh, Digit dragged his feet as around the wall. Several bright flashes later, the show resumed.

"Jacuzzing with a certain… special yellow friend," the sixth voice spoke uncomfortably.

"Playing Tetris." No bot I knew ever had played that game, though I had heard rumors.

Digit beamed into the camera, saying sorrowfully, "Unfortunately, we'll have to wait for Airazor's final questions until after the break. 'Till we get back-" he winked heartily into the camera, then the camera-bot gave him the thumbs up as the wall deactivated, returning to a mass of blank screens.

The host wasted no time moseying up to me and draping his arm around my shoulder. "Airazor, honey, I wanna know if you do dinner dates? We can go get some fine oil, pick up a few cubes of energon, catch a late night movie… and maybe I'll take ya home." The way he talked, it was like he thought he was giving me my dream date. It definitely wasn't.

I shrugged off his arm, saying coolly, "I'm not sure if you heard me, but I'm _happily_ Bonded."

"Darlin', rumor has it that your Bonded was killed in some hair-brained scheme back on that miserable Terran planet."

"No, he wasn't," I answered heatedly. Digit had crossed an invisible line; believing Tigatron was dead was unthinkable. Impossible.

"Airazor, baby, darling, dear," he said smoothly, obviously not deterred. He scooped my hands in his, keeping a firm grip on it, "just one date. That's all I'm asking. And that's all I'll need."

I opened my mouth to go tell this son of a bot to go smelt himself, when the camera-bot announced, "Digit, we're back on in five! Four!" The monitors covering the wall reactivated, flashing brightly until they returned to the images of the question-marked faces.

"I await your 'yes' at the end of the show, darlin'," Digit said, patting my hand as he let it go. Then he whirled around, taking out a bottle of rub-on wax and hurriedly touched up his shining armor.

I felt ready to upchuck the contents of my stomach.

"Three! Two!" the camera-bot held up one finger, then pointed to Digit, signaling him to go.

"So with three questions down and two to go, we're nearing the awaited climax of our show," Digit had slapped on that fake grin that I started to despise. "Let's go to Airazor and get her thoughts on the mystery bots." He waltzed next to me, placing a hand on my back and letting it slide downward.

Discreetly, I elbowed him in the solar plexus, nailing him in the vents, covering it up by raising my hand to my chin, "I have a few ideas."

Wheezing slightly, Digit said, "So… with a few ideas… the show continues!"

On cue, the crowd hollered its suggestions at me, and I struggled to comprehend such a massive data dump.

"Have they ever eaten a crayon?" Really?

"Can they swim?"

"What's their faction?"

"Ask 'em if any of them are sired from famous Autobots! Methinks that one's Arcee's lot!"

"Love! Ask about love!"

That question sparked another in my mind. And I spoke into the sudden hush, "If a femme told you she loved you, what would you do?"

Waspinator hesitated before answering, saying, "Wazzpinator not believe her. Nobody likezz Wazzpinator- I mean me." He blew it, forgetting to say 'I' instead of 'Waspinator'.

"I would take her hand and declare my undying love for her at that very moment." I smiled fondly, Tigatron had done just that for me.

"Ha!" cackled the next voice. "A perfect opportunity to use her for my own means."

"Well, who could blame 'er?" the fourth voice said smugly, "I'm irresistible to da ladies."

The fifth speaker snorted.

"You keep dem eyes still, Chopperface!" the fourth voice cried out shrilly. "Besides, what would _you_ say?"

"I do not have time for something as frivolous as love," spat the fifth.

"More like ya can't find a dame who can stand yer breath," retorted the fourth.

Scrap, this was too easy. Rattrap and Dinobot. My spark glowed with a familiar well of affection for the two of them. I watched Digit round the wall to brandish his weapon at the dynamic duo, a slightly sour look on my face. He had better stop using shock therapy on my comrades.

Dinobot snarled, his voice fluctuating because of the voice scrambler, making Rattrap giggle. I could see them in my mind's eye, Dinobot's muscular frame leering over Rattrap, who would be smirking back fearlessly.

"I, however, would," the sixth voice clearly wanted to get his input heard, "would crush her spark, by rejecting her, yesss! Unless, of course, I _actually _felt the same way."

"Yer one sick bot, ya know dat, Grape Face?" Rattrap commented casually, his voice six times lower than normal.

"At least I don't pretend femmes kiss the ground I walk on, Vermin," the sixth voice said tartly.

"Oh, I know dey don't fer _you_, dey save dat sorta thing for me."

The seventh voice cleared his throat, "It's my turn now. I would let her know that I feel the same way, and, if the time was right, begin a relationship."

"You really think these thing through, Primal," the sixth voice said wondrously, while taking the pitch of a chipmunk. So the seventh voice _was_ Optimus!

"You just gave the game away, M-" Optimus said hotly, before stopping and continuing stiffly, "-random bot I have never seen before."

"Wazzpinator confuzzed," the Flyer said balefully.

"Shut up, you incompetent bug," the sixth speaker snapped.

"Why should he listen to you? You don't command us anymore…" the third voice commented slyly.

"You dare challenge me?" the sixth sounded outraged, "Remember where that got you last time, surreptitious spider." I could tell that voice was Megatron's. Only he would get so bent out of shape by such a tiny little statement.

"I'm more prepared for an overgrown grape _this_ time, Meg-" the third voice hissed, only to be interrupted by Digit, who had slunk over and delivered a high powered shock to the quarrelling 'mystery' bots.

"_OW_! Insignificant Maximal **_scum_**!" Megatron's modified tone bellowed, making the speakers overload into static. With a grunt and a strain of pistons, I was taken aback as Digit flew through the air. He definitely wasn't a Flyer. Smiling, I watched him land, the cables in his neck crunching as he landed awkwardly on his head. The crowd was silent, staring at Digit. Then all at once, they began to swear and scream at Megatron. The few Predacons in the audience exploded into arguments with the overwhelming sea of Maximals, who began fighting with each other. I definitely needed to cut off the drama before my comrades- and former enemies- blasted the studio into smithereens.

Powering my jets, I mentally increased the volume of my vocal synthasizers and my microphone.

"_HEY!_" I hollered, my voice breaking through the static in the speakers and causing major feedback that screeched louder than the crowd. Immediately, everyone silenced, some frozen in the motion of punching each other's circuits out. I continued on in a pleasant, softer voice, "Unless I'm wrong, the mystery bots are Waspinator, Tigatron-" my core temperature heated considerably, "-Tarantulas, Rattrap, Dinobot, Megatron, and Leader Optimus Primal. In that order."

Digit peeled his sorry chassis off the floor, looking up at me, his optics slightly crossed. "Is… is she right?" he sounded charismatic even as he stumbled drunkenly to the left, clinging onto my stool for support.

The wall's monitors all faded to black. I waited, biting my lower lip. Had I lost? Glancing upward, I could see the giant pimple-like pustule quivering slightly. Please, no…

There was a big power-up behind the monitors, before the screens simultaneously exploded with color and light, "_**WINNER!**_" It continued flashing and dancing as the wall slid backward, revealing the mystery bots.

I landed, feeling apprehension claw in my still-organic stomach. The camera was still rolling, make my resolve not to break down stronger. My jets cut as the wall disappeared completely, giving me a complete view of the bots I had grown to miss so much.

I got a brief impression of Dinobot and Rattrap, glaring daggers at each other, Optimus and Megatron having a heated debate, and Waspinator hovering above Tarantulas' head, before strong arms wrapped around me and a deep, reassuring, not-scrambled voice whispered in my audio, "I missed you, Mi'lady."

I froze for a moment, my joints unable to respond as my spark overflowed with a cascade of emotions, all warm and friendly. Then I returned the hug full force, and choked out, "I missed you too."

Tigatron, still clinging to his beast mode as I was, held me for an eternal moment before releasing me. He was never hovering or demanded too much. This time, he had another reason for keeping our reunion sweet and simple: out of the corner of my optic, I could see him heading toward Digit. Chuckling softly, I went to attend to Rattrap and Dinobot, two of the most annoying, stubborn, rude warriors in the Beast Wars.

"Hello, you two," I greeted, when I was within talking distance.

Rattrap jerked his head in my direction, while Dinobot waved a clawed hand at me, both determined to stare the other down. Some greeting.

"Come on, you both should be friends by now," I said patiently, opening my hands to each of them.

"Friends? Huh?" Rattrap looked at me as if I was crazy. I sighed inwardly.

Dinobot straightened to his tall, menacing eight foot height, chuckling darkly, "I could never befriend the Vermin. It lacks a certain…" A snarling sneer grew on his face as he trailed off.

"What?" Rattrap shouted fiercely, poking a finger into the six-pack decorating Dinobot's stomach.

"Hey, hey…" I soothed, putting a hand on each of their arms, their helms swing to face me. "Just to prove that you two _can_ work together, I need a favor…" I began whispering quietly, throwing sidelong glances at Digit and Tigatron, who were talking with stony expressions.

Rattrap's lips curved upward in a mischievous smile and Dinobot raised an optic ridge, trying to hide his interest.

I walked over to Digit, passing Tigatron on my way. His optics widened as I marched purposefully past him and onto Digit, and I thought I could detect a hint of hurt in them. Still, I stopped next to Digit, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to sit on the stool- he still was a bit dazed from his flying lesson. "I'm so sorry, Digit. Are you okay?" I asked him, my optics looking concernedly between his optics.

"Yeah, I'll be good…" he said slowly, massaging his audios. His optics brightened as he caught on who was talking to him. "What 'bout you, Airazor, honey? Whaddya say?" My spark flared dangerously as I saw that plastic grin stretched across his handsome face.

I walked backward, gesturing with my hand for my dynamic duo to take the stand, "Oh, Digit, _darling,_ I think I'll let my friends give you my answer."

"Wha-?" the gameshow host asked dumbly, looking thoroughly confused as Dinobot and Rattrap took their place on either side of me. Dinobot's optics flashed bright green and Rattrap un-holstered his pistol, taking aim.

"Don't kill me!" Digit shrieked, toppling off the stool, and on cue, security bots started forward from the edges of the studio, unseen before.

They fired.

Digit opened one optic, looking down for some mortal wound that his pain receptors hadn't registered yet. He found none and looked gleefully up, "Ha! You missed!" The security force stopped their descent and slowly returned to their posts, looking warily down on us.

"Did we?" Dinobot replied mildly, his optics moving almost lazily upward.

Following the ex-Predacon's gaze, Digit caught sight of the pustule, positively quaking as the its temperature rose, ready to burst.

"Oh, _slag._"

World-wide, bots crowed with laughter as they saw one of their most famous TV personalities doused in a cloudy, steaming, grey goop. The camera good a good close-up as Digit began to sob.

I laughed, twirling to face my fellow Beast Warriors. Tigatron looked surprised, then strode forward, kissing me full on the lips.

"Aww, get a room," Rattrap complained.

As we broke apart, I smiled happily, Tigatron returning it with his own handsome grin. "I still have one question left," I chirped gaily, taking Tigatron's hand in my own.

"And what would that be, Maximal?" Megatron glowered down, his impressive Transmetal form having no impact on me whatsoever.

My spark sang in pure joy as I answered, "Anyone want to go to the Oil House? Drinks on me."

"Now yer talkin'!" Rattrap cheered, compacting into his vehicle mode. "Com'on Chopperface. Ya know ya want to." His tail beckoned Dinobot. Grumbling darkly, the warrior sat gingerly upon Rattrap. Just like old times.

"How am I supposed to drink? I have no mouth!" Tarantulas whined, flipping into the form of a sleek motorcycle.

I lead the way, my hand entwined with Tigatron's, laughing and talking, glad to be off the set of '_The Wall'._

_Fin

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